Why do We Rarely Read Our Own Genres?

It’s come up several times during my blog hopping – the fact that authors seldom seek out their own genres to indulge in what Hermione Granger would call “light reading.” Nobody’s offered any reasons so far, just the observation. So I can speak only for myself.
 

And it’s true. Other than those who initially inspired me: George MacDonald, Lewis Carroll, J. M. Barrie, C. S. Lewis, J. R. R Tolkien, David Gemmell, and J. K. Rowling, I invariably reach way out into left field for a recreational read. Techno-thrillers, spy capers, historical novels, war epics…never fantasy.

Why is that? Maybe it’s just escape from the routine. Maybe I’m only interested in MY make-believe world, nobody else’s. Maybe I’m just jealous of my peers. Oh, come now!
 

Indulging in a broad range of interests has been extremely helpful to me, though. I owe as much of my battle strategies to Tom Clancy as I do to The History Channel. And my grandson’s bucket of soldiers. Ditto innovative weaponry. Robert Harris has given me insights into the daily life of advanced ancients.

So is there a point here? Not really. For whatever reason we deviate in our reading tastes, it certainly doesn’t hurt!